


Never say nope to trope

by stag_hag83



Series: Never say nope to trope [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blizzards, Cats, Coffee Shop, Desk Sex, Frottage, Graphic descriptions of nipple nibbling, Hannibal is drunk, Hotels, LADDER TROPE, M/M, Making Out, Will is drunk, blowies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8035816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stag_hag83/pseuds/stag_hag83
Summary: Alright dudes. New series. I love trope. I regret nothing.





	1. Ladder

**Author's Note:**

> God I love a good blowie.

Will gasped as he pumped erratically into his fist. The sparse pre-cum leaking from his cock was his only lubricant, and his rough palm burned against the soft flesh. He imagined his hands were Hannibal’s, pulling him towards ecstasy. Will came so hard, and so noisily, one or two of the dogs jolted awake. 

As the glow of the orgasm faded, the embarrassment set in. He was masturbating to his psychiatrist. His friend. He saw Hannibal every Friday at 7, and immediately went home after his appointment to feed the dogs, cook dinner, and jerk off. Hannibal also had a tendency to wander into his dreams, never giving him a second of relief. He was a walking boner factory. 

oOo

Hannibal sensed something. Will was treading carefully around him, too polite, too soft. Theirs was a blunt friendship, and Hannibal felt it slipping away. He was disappointed, and curious at this change. He decided to address it at next week’s appointment. He would milk Will for information like no one else could. 

oOo

Will sat across from Hannibal, flushed and edgy. 

“Will. May I say, you seem anxious this evening”. Hannibal’s voice was even and compassionate. 

Will cleared his throat. 

“Oh. Um. Just a case. The usual. Jack and...stuff”. Will closed his eyes and sighed. Had he just used the word “stuff” in front of Hannibal Lecter? Way to go Graham. Way to go. 

Will jumped up from his seat and began to wander around Hannibal’s office, looking at the art framed on his walls without actually seeing it. 

“Will. Please.” Hannibal walked towards him slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. 

Will finally stopped pacing, and leaned against the wooden ladder situated below the second level of his office library. He felt the sturdy rungs dig into his back, and felt grounded. Real. 

Hannibal stood in front of him, hands behind his back. 

“Will. Talk to me.” Hannibal was gentle, and approached Will slowly. 

“I...” Began Will. “I can’t be around you anymore.” 

Hannibal could smell it on him. The musky, picante smell of arousal. Hannibal closed the space between them until their noses were almost touching. 

“And why not” asked Hannibal, his breath ghosting over Will’s face. 

Will didn’t have the chance to answer. He had barely opened his mouth when he was suddenly crushed against the ladder, Hannibal’s lips against his own. 

Will moaned and Hannibal’s hands were insatiable. His cock was already at a 90 degree angle, and he pressed it shamelessly into Hannibal’s thigh. 

It was Hannibal’s turn to grunt in satisfaction as he dragged his own clothed erection against Will’s. 

Will began to grind against Hannibal, his boner factory up and running. Hannibal rutted back, cock impossibly hard. He licked a wet stripe from Will’s neck to his lips, and Will mumbled “fuck yes” against Hannibal’s shoulder. 

Suddenly the touch was gone, and Hannibal began to rip off Will’s ugly button up. He immediately honed in on his nipples, holding each between his teeth, and tickling the sensitive buds with the tip of his tongue. He began to kiss down Will’s naked torso, and Will could do nothing but rock back and forth. 

Hannibal dropped to his knees, and had Will’s cock out of his pants before you could say blowie. Hannibal was apparently an expert at sucking cock. Will wasn’t surprised, Hannibal being the renaissance man he was. He took Will into his mouth entirely, running his devilish tongue over the slit. 

Will came like Old Faithful, the force of his orgasm almost knocking Hannibal backward onto his ass. He slid down the ladder a few rungs, cock softening against Hannibal’s cheek.

Hannibal stood, licking his lips.

“Now Will.” He said calmly. “Where were we.”

oOo


	2. Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotel trope! you know you want it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert. They have to share a bed.

The flakes began small, flurries floating around on the breeze. Will looked up and caught one on his tongue. Hannibal looked over at him fondly, despite the grisly crime scene before then. The gentle flakes didn't last long. Soon the flurries had evolved into a full out blizzard. The wind was brutal, and the snow began coating the ground at an almost unnatural rate. 

“Fuck” said Jack, sitting in the front seat of the jeep. “We need to find a hotel. There’s no way that flight is going out.” 

Will begrudgingly knew he was right. He turned to Hannibal. 

“Sorry I dragged you out here. You’ll miss appointments."

Hannibal smiled at Will serenely. 

“I came of my own accord Will. Now. Call Alana to feed your dogs." 

oOo

The bed and breakfast they found was a few miles down the road. The drive there was treacherous, and they ended up stuck more than once. 

They ran from the car to the hotel, barely able to see a foot in front of them.  
It was deliciously warm inside, and Will looked around in shock. Every surface was covered in cats. Photos and paintings and figurines. He immediately looked at Hannibal, who was completely disgusted. The cats seemed to stare at them, round eyes following where ever they went. 

“Well hello there boys! What can I do for you?” A middle aged woman straightened up from behind the desk. She held a fat tabby who gave Will the look of death. He supposed it was the dog hair.

“Please tell me you have rooms” said Jack, unperturbed by another cat who jumped up on the desk. 

“We do! 2 left!” She seemed ecstatic. The cat in her arms hissed and narrowed its eyes.

“Oh Pipsqueak. We’ve talked about being rude to guests! You naughty girl”. She then kissed the cat on the mouth.

“I’m afraid" said the woman, stroking the obese creature in her arms, "two of you will have to shack up.” 

“That’s fine. Hannibal and Will. You’ll be sharing.” Jack was nonchalant.  
Will was about to start whining, but decided it wasn’t worth it. 

oOo

Their room, spoiler alert, was plastered with cats. There was a giant painting above the bed with a huge fluffy cat lounging inappropriately in a chair. 

Hannibal spoke. 

“Ah. A king. Will, are you uncomfortable sleeping with me?” 

“No! I mean yes!” said Will, trying to overcompensate for his anxiety. “But I sweat. profusely”. 

“No matter.” replied Hannibal, unbuttoning his jacket. “I’ll wake you if you start to dream”. 

oOo

Each of the men had stripped down to boxers and t-shirts. Hannibal had procured toothbrushes at the front desk. They were settling in, a large space between them on the lavish bed. As Will was about to turn off the light, there was a knock on the door. Before Will could get up the woman from the front desk burst in. 

“Hey boys!” She was beaming. “I completely forgot. Each room comes with its own cat!” 

She plopped a skinny grey one on the floor, and then with a flourish said,

“Sleep tight boys! Albert will keep you warm.” 

And then she was gone. Hannibal looked at Will and smiled. Will smiled back and they began to laugh. It evolved into loud guffaws as the cat jumped up onto the bed. Will had tears streaming down his face and Hannibal’s stomach was starting to cramp.

Will was suddenly relaxed. 

“Hold on.” he said to Hannibal. He stood up, and walked to the chair where his coat was draped. He rummaged in his pockets, finding a few dog treats. 

“Ah hah!” He pulled a flask out of the breast pocket. 

“I think we need this.” 

Hannibal was surprised and happy with this laid back, at home Will. 

Will took a gulp and handed to to Hannibal, who took quite the swig himself. 

oOo

The Jack Daniel’s in the flask had disappeared. Hannibal was laughing like a nutcase, and Will held Albert over his head.

“SIMBA”! 

Albert had run out of fucks to give, and just let it happen. 

“I’ve actually seen that movie!” said Hannibal. 

Will set Albert down on the end of the bed. 

“I’m beat” yawned Will, settling back into bed. 

“It’s lights out I think” replied Hannibal, and switched off his ceramic cat lamp. Will did the same and they fell into a pleasant, drunken stupor. 

oOo

Will was dreaming. He was swimming in a sea of corpses, trying to get to shore. They grabbed his feet, dragging him under.

“Will! Will!” Hannibal shook him, a concerned frown etched on his face. 

Will sat up with a gasp, and grabbed at Hannibal. 

“Shhh" soothed Hannibal. You were dreaming”. 

“The corpses.” He was almost manic and tightened his grip on Hannibal’s arm. “I was drowning in them.” 

Hannibal, without a thought pulled Will into his chest and ran his fingers through his wild curls.  
Will inhaled slowly. He looked up at Hannibal, and if it was the most natural thing in the world, kissed him gently. Hannibal tightened his grip around Will‘s shoulders. He kissed him thoroughly this time, tonguing his mouth open. Will returned the kiss, tongue lazily licking Hannibal’s mouth. After several long minutes, Will pulled away, and lay on his down pillow. Hannibal lay down also, Will curled up next to him, breath becoming even. 

Albert snored softly at the end of the bed, and Hannibal smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need more tropes! Need more tropes! :::chanting:::


	3. Coffee shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Probably my favorite trope. Also frottage. My other favorite thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUMPING

Will was a mediocre barista. His espresso was often burnt, he under frothed the milk, and always got the orders wrong. 

He was lucky his uncle owned the shop. Or he’d be fucked. 

He was in his last year year of grad school at University of Maryland, studying criminology. He and his dad had always scraped by financially, which meant any higher education would have been out of the question. He was, however, an excellent student. 4.0, involved it every possible activity and charity. Maryland offered him a scholarship, and he gladly accepted. He was also TA-ing for extra cash, outside the cafe. 

oOo

Will was leaning on the counter, drinking some terrible concoction he had invented. The cafe was dead, and he still had an hour before closing. He counted his share of tips. Just shy of $20. Super. He shoved the money into his pocket and added another squirt of mint to his already bizarre drink. It was growing on him. 

The bell on the front door jingled. Will looked up, disappointed at the interruption of doing blissfully nothing. 

The man who strolled in was tall, with slightly greying hair and a sharp, gaudy suit. He walked up to the counter, entranced by the boy before him. He was pretty as Hell, with dark curls and large blue eyes. He had a light stubble, without which he would look about 16. 

Will's smile was tight, and he said almost curtly, 

“What can I get you.”

“Well...Will” the man said as he read the little plastic name tag clipped onto his apron. 

“What would you recommend?” 

Will raised his eyebrows. Apparently he would be sucked into some stupid conversation about coffee. He stifled a yawn.

“Well.” said Will looking bored. “What do you like?”

“What are you drinking?” Asked the man, leaning in closer. 

Will had to admit. The man was attractive. High cheekbones, and absolutely pornographic lips. 

“Oh sir. You really don’t want that.” 

“And how do you know?” Returned the man, smirking. 

“I just made it up. It’s a white chocolate, mint, and cinnamon triple shot...thing. With whipped cream.” Will cleared his throat and blushed.

“I am sold.” Said the man. “And if you wouldn’t mind, extra whipped cream”. 

Will flushed again, thinking about the man licking whipped cream off of the crook of his neck. He shook his head and realized he was staring. 

“Oh. Sorry. Let me get to it.”

“Not a problem. I’ll watch you.” 

Will took a deep breath, feeling the man’s amber eyes on him as he began to run the machine. 

He frothed the milk, dropped in the espresso, and added to flavor. He looked up, and the man had his eyes trained on Will’s hands. When he was finished with his masterpiece, He grabbed the can of whipped cream from the little fridge under the counter. He began to squirt it on, trying to create a swirl.

Will went to grab a sleeve when the man said, 

“More.” 

“I’m sorry?” Asked Will. 

“More whipped cream please. I’m in the mood to indulge.” 

Will’s eyes widened and was happy the counter was high enough to conceal his erection.

He squirted on an obscene amount of the fluffy, sweet substance, and handed the cup to the man. 

“Thank you Will. I’m sure this will be terrible.” 

Will actually laughed at the man’s wide smile, which was teasing. 

“Enjoy” said Will, as the man reached for his wallet. 

“Oh. No-no charge.” Will said awkwardly. 

“I insist.” 

The man then slapped a $50 down on the counter, and without a word left.

Will stared at the bill, and gulped. He thought about splitting it with the other baristas, but then decided to shove it in his pocket with the rest. He picked up the money, and something laying underneath fluttered onto the ground. 

It was a business card, with a printed phone number.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Psychiatrist”. 

Will bit his lip and stared at it for a moment. He then grabbed it, and slipped it carefully into his wallet.

oOo

The next morning Will was opening. At 4:30 in the fucking morning. The shop opened at 5:30, to accommodate people grabbing some much needed caffeine on their way to work. 

He turned on the espresso machine and unloaded the dishwasher. The steam clouded his glasses as he set out all the pots and shot glasses for easy access. 

He placed the pastries carefully into the case, putting on the little labels. They had a baker that worked over night, and made some of the most delicious treats in the city. Will stole a chocolate croissant and put cash in the drawer. He yawned, already thinking about going home that evening. He had a dog to snuggle with and Netflix to binge on. Stranger Things was beckoning. 

oOo

5:30 came, and some of regulars popped in. Will knew their orders well, and made some pretty passable drinks. He robotically made change and took credit cards. 

“Will!” 

Will looked up as Bev walked in, heading around to the back. Everyone was sitting with their coffee and pastries, looking content. 

“Hey Bev!” The 2 of them had gotten close since Will was hired on. He worked with Bev most days, and she made life a little more bearable. 

“How was closing last night?” She asked, tying on her black apron. 

“Oh you know. Same.” He busied himself stacking cups. 

“Cool. Hey, do you want to come out with us tonight? Adrian and Ed are coming, and apparently Ed’s new girlfriend. Who I hear is a total bitch.” Bev looked at Will hopefully. She knew Will needed a little push when it came to socialization.

Will was about to open his mouth to say no, when the front door opened. 

“Just a sec.” 

He turned back to the counter. 

It was the man. Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He was dressed in another riduclous 3 piece suit, looking like he was born in the wrong century. Will bit his lip. 

“Good morning Will.” The doctor said politely, folding his hands on the counter. 

“Um, Hi. Hello.” stammered Will, hands sweating profusely. 

Hannibal smirked at him. 

“What can I...can I get you?” Will stuttered. 

“How about just a large coffee, room for he cream” Hannibal practically purred at him. 

Will grabbed his coffee, and took the $2.50 from his hand. Their fingers brushed, and Hannibal licked his lips. He said nothing about the business card, and went to sit in a leather armchair by the window. 

“Will. C’mon. Have some fun for once.” Bev had come to stand next to him, elbowing his arm. “Come to Sammie’s with us. 8 o’clock.”

Will was distracted, and said “sure” without really thinking about it. Bev squealed, and clapped her hands. Will needed to get laid. 

oOo

Sammie’s was a little pub tucked away a few blocks from the coffee shop. Will actually liked it, cozy booths and relatively quiet. They had a great beer selection, and Will slid into a booth holding a Guinness. It was warm, just how he liked it. 

The gang drank more and more, eventually throwing back shots. Will, already tipsy, decided to join them. Bev began to get particularly loud, and several patrons began to give her distainful looks. Even the bartender, who was a friend, came over to tell her to tone it down. 

Will finished his 4th beer, and went up to the bar to stretch his legs and grab a whiskey. He was moving on to hard liquor. Not his best decision. 

He jumped as he felt hands on his shoulders. He whipped around, and was face to face with Hannibal Lecter. 

“Will. Hello.” Hannibal said smoothly, conspicuously looking Will up and down. 

Will was emboldened by the booze and grabbed his whiskey. 

“Why Dr. Lecter” he said coyly. “Fancy meeting you here.” He took a small sip of the amber liquid, enjoying the burn on his tongue. 

“What a strange coincidence” said Hannibal, eyes widened dramatically. 

“Are you stalking me sir?” Will asked, taking a swig. 

“Possibly” The man replied. “I may have heard your friend mention the name of the bar to you.” 

“That’s pretty creepy you know”. Will squinted his eyes teasingly at the doctor. 

Hannibal saw the look, and bared his sharp teeth in a smile. Things were about to get real. 

Hannibal grabbed Will’s hand and led him to a shadowy alcove in the back of the bar. He then backed Will up against the wall, hands braced on either side of his head. 

Will stopped breathing for a moment, and Hannibal leaned in, looking like a predator stalking his prey. He began to suck on Will’s neck, and paw at the buttons of his hideous plaid shirt. 

Will moaned, quite audibly, and Hannibal chuckled. Suddenly, Hannibal’s lips were pressed to his, unrelenting. He forced his tongue into Will’s mouth not to be denied. Will was drunk and horny, and snaked his arms around Hannibal, bringing their crotches together. Both men were impossibly hard. They began to move, grinding their clothed cocks together. 

Will’s head was swimming, and he giggled as Hannibal licked his ears. He was going to cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. There was no way around it. 

He was close, so close, when-

“Jesus fucking Christ Will!”

Bev’s mouth dropped open at the sight of Will grinding shamelessly against some silver fox. 

Will laughed, and lay his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. 

“Hello. I am Dr. Hannibal Lecter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Hannibal held out his hand, trying to inconspicuously adjust his crotch. 

Bev shook it limply, dubious of where it had just been.

Hannibal straightened, and kissed Will lightly on the cheek. 

“I need to be going. Will, perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Will swayed on his feet and blurted out-

“You bet your sexy ass you will!”


	4. Cop and surgeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love this fucking trope. Will high on morphine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of boners

The first thing Will felt was the heat. It was a searing, almost cold sensation moving over his right side. It took a few moments for the pain to really hit him, and then, all at once, thousands of tortured nerve endings began to scream. He opened his mouth in a silent cry. 

oOo

Hannibal was just beginning his shift. He was the general surgery attending on call, and preferred to just stay at the hospital. He would get paged at some point by a panicking resident, and didn’t fancy a 20 minute drive to John Hopkins at 3:30 in the morning. 

He was adding some cream to his coffee when a nurse came up behind him. 

“Hey Dr. Lecter. There’s a patient coming in from the trauma bay. They said they need a consult immediately.” The young man smiled apologetically.

“No problem Andrew. Thanks for letting me know.” He sighed, and stared mournfully at his coffee.

 

oOo

Will was more confused than scared. One minute he was checking out a noise complaint at some college house party, and the next he was being roughly jostled into the back of an ambulance. 

“What the fuck...?” Will mumbled, coming out of his haze.

“He’s conscious” Someone said quickly. 

“Officer Graham. Officer Graham.” A blurry face loomed over him, and took his pulse. 

Will shifted, and and bolt of pain hit him. He struggled and screamed, and another person joined the first, holding him down. 

The last word he heard was “Morphine!” Before he passed out. 

oOo

The ED team triaged Will to trauma with speed and efficiency. He was hooked up to heart monitors, blood pressure cuffs and IVs immediately. Several people walked next to gurney as they rolled him down the hall. 

He was in and out of consciousness, and heard snippets of conversation here and there. 

“He’s relatively stable, despite the tachycardia, but oxygenation is at 99%.” 

He was vaguely aware of someone poking and prodding him, causing a dull pain in his side. 

 

“It appears to have shallowly punctured the small bowel, but I can’t tell for sure until we open him up. Let’s get him to the OR. Oh- and We’ll need a bag of blood please. His records indicate he’s A neg.”

Will thought vaguely that this may have been important information. He felt himself lifted, and something was placed over his nose and mouth. 

A calm voice was close to his ear. Almost a whisper. 

“Breathe Officer Graham. Breathe.” 

oOo

“Officer Graham?” The words were far away, as if he was under water, the sound coming from the surface. Will blinked and then squinted, bright lights shocking his eyes. The light in the room immediately softened, and he peered around. 

A hospital. Definitely a hospital. White walls, beeping machines, and a rough pillow. His head was swimming, feeling thick and slow. 

“Whassss...” Began Will, slurring. “What happened?” 

“You were stabbed Officer Graham,” said the nebulous voice, in a no-nonsense tone.

Will rolled his head heavily towards the voice and saw a man sitting next to the bed. 

“Shit” said Will, heavily under the influence of various pain killers. “That sucks.” 

The man next to him chuckled, as he came into focus. 

“Luckily the knife only grazed your small intestine. You just returned from surgery, and everything is looking good. You’ll be with us for a few days for pain control and monitoring.” 

Will stared at the man, whose face was now clear. 

“Holy shit.” Exclaimed Will, shifting uncomfortably. “You are fucking gorgeous doctor. You are a doctor right? You’re wearing one of those things.” He motioned towards Hannibal’s stethoscope. 

Hannibal cleared his throat, trying not to laugh.

“Correct.” Hannibal returned, leaning in towards Will almost instinctively. The young officer was no scrub himself, a jaw line for days, and large blue eyes. His too long chocolate curls fell over his forehead, and Hannibal had the sudden urge to brush them away from his face. 

“Well.” Said Will, blinking slowly. “A hottie AND a doctor.” Will wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, quite a feat considering the amount of opiates flowing through his body. 

Hannibal jumped in shock and embarrassment as his cock began to tingle in his scrubs. They left nothing to the imagination. 

“Thank you Office Graham.” Hannibal tried to sound professional, as he adjusted his crotch.

“Your cheekbones...” Continued Will, not to be deterred. “How do those exist?” 

He then reached out a shaky hand towards Hannibal’s face. Instead of moving away the doctor leaned into the young man’s touch. Will brushed his fingers over his cheeks, and traveled down to his lips. 

Will gulped, and glanced down. He laughed and threw his head back against his pillow.

“I have such a huge boner right now. I didn’t know you could get a boner on morphine. That’s awesome!” 

 

oOo

Five weeks later...

 

“Ouch! That still hurts!” 

“Oh you’re fine, said Hannibal, who was laying on top of Will kissing his neck and running his hands under his shirt. 

Will had to agree. He barely felt the wound at all. He had a pretty good surgeon after all. 

oOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You likey?


	5. Cock Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary refusal. You know you like to be teased...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of strawberries. SMUT.
> 
> Also. I don't know if this is technically a trope. But I feel like I've read a few similar. Also they are awesome AF.

Hannibal was gentle. Way too fucking gentle.

Will was able to get off of course, but it was getting tedious. will wasn't sure how to act. How do you tell your best friend, your lover, your bedrock, that the sex was sort of...meh. 

oOo

Hannibal was feeding Will strawberries in bed, alternating juicy bites with equally juicy kisses. Will was trying to get it up, he really was. He was literally half cocked. The juice from the strawberries dripped down Will’s neck, and Hannibal began to lick at it languidly. 

Will, feeling the slow drag of Hannibal’s tongue, snapped. 

“Hannibal! Stop it!” 

Hannibal jerked away, frowning. 

“Will. Did I hurt you?” 

“I wish!” Hissed Will, scrambling out from underneath the fuzzy man. 

“Pardon me?” Hannibal was beginning to feel affronted. 

Will looked livid. 

“I’m not fragile, you know! I'm not a porcelain doll!”

At this point Will was slipping back into his boxers and Khakis aggressively. 

“Just fuck me!” Continued Will. “Tie me up! Gag me! Jesus Christ!” 

Hannibal was somewhere between angry and amused at the flushed man in front him, stained with fruit juice. 

“Will.” Said Hannibal calmly. “Let’s talk about this.” He patted the space on the bed next to him. 

“I’m tired of talking Hannibal. I’m tired of talking about my beauty, the infinite depths of my eyes, my plush fucking lips! Just tell me I have a hard fucking cock!” 

At this declaration, Will stormed out, buttoning up his hideous shirt.

Hannibal lay in bed. He had barely moved during Will’s outburst. He grabbed one of the wayward strawberries on the sheet and popped it in his mouth. Apparently romance was dead.

oOo

Will was grading papers in his classroom, office beginning to feel stuffy and claustrophobic. 

He was feeling a little embarrassed thinking about his “...conversation” with Hannibal the night before. But he was holding strong. He wanted to be fucked by the beast that slumbered behind Hannibal’s serene exterior. 

oOo

The doors to the lecture hall opened, slamming against the walls. Hannibal strode in, shedding his coat and undoing his belt. 

“Hey what are you doing...?” Began Will. 

He was cut off as Hannibal crawled over his desk like a wildcat. He lunged at Will and they both crashed to the ground. Will was paralyzed with shock as Hannibal rolled them over, Will beneath the bigger man. 

“Hanni-” At this point Hannibal clapped a hand over Will’s mouth. Hannibal’s own pants were around his thighs, and he began to work on Will’s. He opened Will’s belt and roughly yanked down his pants and boxers, the friction burning his knees. Hannibal chucked Will’s bottoms behind him in a heap, and flung Will’s legs over his shoulders. Hannibal leaned over, and whispered into Will’s ear-

“Is this what you want William? Do you need my cock?”

“Yes...” whined Will, eyes rolling back into his head. 

“Then fucking say it. I want to hear the words.”

“I need your cock!” Will’s voice echoed throughout the room. 

Hannibal prepared Will urgently, 3 fingers soon nestled within his hole. Will cried out again as one of his fingers brushed against the sensitive nub he was never able reach himself. 

Hannibal’s cock breached him without warning, thrusting and pounding. Hannibal pinned Will’s grasping hands above his head, shirt half off. 

“Don’t touch yourself” Growled Hannibal, lip curling. 

“Doctor Lecter...” Breathed Will helplessly. “Please!” 

At these words Hannibal practically exploded, Will’s slick entrance clenching around him. Hannibal shuddered, still thrusting, and Will followed him quickly, spraying forcefully everywhere. His shirt was soaked, and there were pearly drops in his stubble.

Just as Will was beginning to suffocate under Hannibal’s weight, the doctor pulled out. He bent down briefly, and lapped up a trickle of seed dripping from Will’s ass. He stood, and stuffed his softening cock back into his boxers, and pulled up his trousers. He left without a word, leaving Will damp and panting. 

“Well.” Thought Will, unable to even sit up. 

“Be careful what you wish for.”


	6. Never look a gift psychiatrist in the mouth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GUUYYYYS. Back with the trope. Because srsyl...who doesn't love trope.
> 
> This idea was actually from this sweet prompt group on facebook. This is my first entry. 
> 
> Ok. Expect opera. And aftershave...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick things. 
> 
> First- A leader box is essentially a little tin with a cute fish on it. Imagine a shoe polish container, slightly bigger and all aluminim.
> 
> Also, the Baltimore concert opera is a real place; Although I took complete liberty with the description.
> 
> Ready GO!

It was a box. A long, navy box with a tasteful black ribbon. Will had the fleeting thought that it matched Hannibal’s dining room perfectly. 

“What’s this?” Will frowned at Hannibal from across the table. 

Hannibal chuckled. 

“I’ve heard the surprise is part of the fun.” Hannibal raised an almost non-existent eyebrow. 

Will flushed. 

“Isn’t it inappropriate to get gifts for your non-patient?”

“Perhaps” said Hannibal lightly. But it’s quite common among  
friends.” 

Will lifted the box and hefted the weight. Heavier than he thought.

He slid the satiny ribbon off and opened the lid. He rifled through the white paper. 

Will threw his head back and laughed. 

“You didn’t.” 

Hannibal grinned at Will, in a rare wide smile. 

“Alright. I get it.” Will lifted the small brown bottle of aftershave. “Is it made from Pegasus feathers and the Elixir of Life?” 

Hannibal rolled his eyes, another rare occurrence.

“More sandalwood, I would hope.” 

Will opened the bottle and sniffed. 

It was warm and spicy, with a hint of earth. Quite nice actually. 

oOo

“Holy fuck Graham.” Bev looked at Will incredulously. 

“What…?”

“You smell...sexy.” Bev proceeded to grab him by the shirt and smell his neck. 

“Christ Bev get off!.” 

“Where on Earth did you get that stuff? I’d do you if you didn’t drive stick!” 

Jack had, unfortunately for him, walked in during this last sentence and groaned. 

“Jack!” Bev almost yelled. “Come and smell Will.” 

Jack couldn’t help himself, the curious head of forensics he was. 

“Wow Will. That’s...wow. I’m going to get some. Bella will go nuts. Where on earth you find this?” 

Will was now cornered, being sniffed by both individuals like exuberant dogs. 

Will turned beet red, and started to sweat. 

“It was a...present.” 

Bev widened her eyes suggestively. 

“From whooooo…” She winked. 

Will’s brain malfunction and he blurted out, 

“Dr. Lecter ok??” 

What had he done. 

oOo

“Good evening Will! Can I get you a drink?” Hannibal looked almost...bubbly. 

“Um yes, that would be great actually. Long day.” Will sighed and ran a hand over his beard. 

Hannibal poured him several fingers of scotch in a crystal glass that caught the light in his office just right. It sparkled in his hand, making the bronze liquid glow. 

“Before we start, I have something for you.” Hannibal grabbed something off his desk. 

“I just happened to be shopping and saw this.” 

“Hannibal. The aftershave.. I can’t accept anything else.” 

Will was deeply embarrassed, but curious at the same time. 

“Will. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just a trinket.” Hannibal returned gently. 

Will suddenly felt guilty at his knee jerk response. Hannibal looked so excited. Well, as as excited as Hannibal Lecter could get.

“Oh no, it’s fine. May I see?” Will grimaced at his formal words. 

Hannibal chuckled, also recognizing the uncomfortably delivered question. 

Here he handed Will a small paper bag, with one of those fancy rope like handles. 

He pulled a round, aluminum case, a bit bigger than his palm out of the big. 

Will looked at Hannibal with round eyes and a gaping mouth. 

“Hannibal...is this a Leader box?” The box was marked with use from a fisherman long ago, with a raised fish rendered in the aluminum. The words “Leader Box” curved around the edge of the little thing. 

“I can’t believe you found this. My grandfather gave me on when I was 7 or 8. I lost it in a river.” Will’s words wavered dangerously, and he felt a tear forming in one of his eyes. 

“I would put my favorite flies in. I could just put in in my pocket. I carried it everywhere Hannibal. Absolutely everywhere.” 

Will stiffened as Hannibal put his hand out towards Will. 

He grasped the leader box tightly in his hand until his knuckles cracked. 

“I need to go.” Here Will ran out without his bag, with only his keys and the aluminum container. 

oOo

Will was a confused man. Not particularly uncommon for him, but this was a conundrum of a very uncommon sort. There really was only one thing to do. 

oOo

“Why don’t you just bedazzle your cock or something and drop trou at your next appt.” Bev was sucking on twizzlers and lying happily on the floor with all 8 dogs.

“Jesus Bev. Why did I even ask you?” 

Will collapsed onto the couch with a very dramatic sigh. 

“I was joking, alright? Let’s have a think. How about socks. Like crazy cashmere ones with little french sayings on them.”

“No...thats weird.” Will frowned and twiddled his thumbs. Was twiddling thumbs even a thing anymore?

“I’ve got it!” Bev sat up and several dogs went flying. 

“Fancy wine.” 

“I know nothing about wine. There is red and white. And getting wine drunk is fun.”

“Dude. I am running out of thoughts. Just stop trying so hard. You know the guy pretty well by now. And want to bang him.” Bev yawned. 

Will really did want to bang him. Or be banged BY him. Either way. He would switch for those cheekbones. 

oOo

Will was nervous. He sat in the leather hair across from Dr. Sex on a Stick.

Hannibal looked at him, concern crossing his features. 

“Will, is everything alright? Did something happen at work?” 

(Mentally Hannibal asked if he needed to kick Jack’s ass into the ground).

“Um no, I actually have something for you.” There were a few beads of moisture on Will’s forehead. 

Hannibal knew better than to protest and embarrass the somewhat fragile psyche of his “not patient.” 

“That’s very generous of you Professor Graham” Hannibal said, almost seductively. 

Will rummaged around in his bag and pulled out 2 envelopes 

Hannibal took them with a smile. 

“Will! This is lovely!” 

They were tickets to “Guillaume Tell” at the prestigious Baltimore Concert opera.

“There are 2 tickets here.” Said Hannibal evenly. 

Will started to stutter

“I..I th...thought you may want to take a friend or...something.” 

Will became very interested in his fingernails at this point. 

Hannibal smirked, but not unkindly. He then handed Will one of the tickets with a flourish.

“I do have someone in mind.” Hannibal put on his mask as Will chuckled. 

“I warn you. I don’t know anything about opera. Will’s mouth twitched into a small grin.

oOo

‘Fuckity fuckity fuck.” 

Will was pacing like a nervous tiger in a cage. 

“What do I wear?? It’s black tie Bev. Black tie. What even is that? Do I literally wear a black tie?”

Bev openly laughed at him. 

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news William. You’ll have to rent a tux.” 

“You’re joking.” He looked at horrified. 

“I’ll come with you. Let’s go.” She went to grab her purse from the little table by the front door of her cozy apartment 

“Now??” Will asked in a screechy voice.

“The opera is tomorrow. Now get those ugly shoes on and let’s go.”

oOo

Hannibal insisted on picking Will up. He was driving to Wolftrap and BACK to assing Baltimore. 

Will was sweating. He had to admit the tux was pretty on point. Classic, and fit him like a glove. Bev insisted he go a size smaller, “to give a hint of bulge.” 

He rolled his eyes and let her take charge. 

So here he was, standing in front of a fan, waiting for his date. Date? 

Will heard a car roll up the driveway, slightly sluggishly on the gravel ground. 

Alright. Alright. Alright. 

oOo

“Will”. Hannibal looked taken aback. Was he blushing?

“You look...effulgent.” (definitely a date). Hannibal moved a hair closer to shake his hand. (definitely not a date.)

“Thank you.” was all Will could say with a tight little smile. “You...also.” 

Hannibal was the picture of poise and refinement. His tux was fitted, and highlighted a tight chest. There was the tiniest bulge in his midsection and Will had to will away his semi.

“Shall we?” Hannibal opened the door for him, and they were off.

oOo

The opera house was...luminous. Grand chandeliers and soft lighting. There was people everywhere, wearing tuxedos and gowns. The elegant individuals painted a very pretty picture, to say the least. 

“Let’s get a drink shall we?” Hannibal could sense Will’s tense state. 

“Oh god yes” He laughed, suddenly feeling more comfortable with Hannibal’s palm on his lower back. 

oOo

“Will...:” Hannibal trailed off frowning at the tickets.

“Is something wrong?” Will started to pre-panic. 

“No. Not at all. These are private balcony tickets. How did you find these?’ 

Will shrugged. 

“Bev knows a guy who knows a guy who was selling his tickets.” 

Hannibal looked at him, a crease forming between his brows. 

Will could read him like a book. 

“Don’t worry. I got a great discount. I agreed to give weekend lectures for the guy’s class for the next two months.

Hannibal smiled, relieved. 

“Let’s go then. I have a feeling you’ll be perfectly at ease”

oOo

The two men walked down a quiet hallway, which led to 2 or 3 doors. A man in a tux stood outside one of the doors, smiling serenely. 

“May I see your tickets sirs?” 

Hannibal flashed them, and the man ushered them through the door, closing it behind him. 

It was barely lit, with several plush chairs connected in a movie theater style. There were 4 in a row, but Will and Hannibal were the only occupants…

“This is...wow.” That was the most articulate Will could be at this point. 

Hannibal said nothing, and handed him champagne out of nowhere. Will sipped the bubbles, and felt his chest loosen. Champagne always did pleasant things to his body. 

Hannibal gestured for Will to sit. Hannibal sat next to him of course, balancing his champagne as he eased down.

“Cheers Will.” Hannibal held up the glass, and Will tapped it gently with a quiet “ding”.

The lights dimmed, eventually going off completely. Will noticed several twinkling lights above them, almost looking like a constellation. 

The opera started. Will had no idea what they were saying, so Hannibal would occasionally lean over to whisper explanations into his ear. The doctor’s breath felt sinful, and every time he felt it whisper in his neck his cock got harder. And harder. And, (spoiler alert), harder.

“Fuck it” Will said outloud. 

Hannibal was only able to open his mouth when he suddenly had a lapful of Graham. Fully erect Graham. 

Hannibal grabbed his waist and groaned out-

“God finally.” 

With champagne and adrenaline and horny-ness Will bent his head to kiss his not-psychiatrist. 

Hannibal grabbed the back of head, yanking the curls possessively. There were tongue. And saliva. And moaning that would have been very conspicuous if there wasn’t that racket going on below them. 

Hannibal’s cock sprung into action. 

They ground their crotches together, Will’s face in Hannibal’s neck. His cologne smelled of fresh rosemary, and was surprisingly masculine; It was completely Hannibal.

“Hannibal. I'm almost there. Are you? Tell me you are.” Will could barely form words at this point, the friction almost painful.

“I’m there Will...I’m right here.” Hannibal whispered, trying to soothe the man on his lap. 

They burst almost simultaneously, their slacks getting completely soaked. 

As they lay panting Will whispered-

“I’m definitely not getting my deposit back." 

Hannibal answered with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FROTTTTTAGE


	7. Combo trope. Will cooks and everyone is drunk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright. The cooking trope in combo with my (favorite) trope everyone wasted. 
> 
> Check the notes for some traditional New Orleans food explanations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ]There is quite a bit of New Orleans, Louisiana stuff in here. It's my favorite city in the entire world. Bold statement I know. 
> 
> Mud bugs-Cray fish. And when boiled, their "brains" turn to liquid and your literally suck out the juice. I promise it's delicious. 
> 
> The Pontchartrain is a huuuuge lake. 
> 
> Etouffee is a spicy dish, with a "smothered" shellfish sauce.
> 
> The rest of the food you've probably heard of. And if you knew this you can skip the above. HAH. But you already read it. 
> 
> Please, Please, Please enjoy. xoxoxo
> 
> ALSO: Sorry no smut.
> 
> ALSO ALSO: Anyone who can find the first cannon reference in this series gets a prize! I don't know what. Probably a pocket square.

****Will****

 

The smell of the French Quarter, New Orleans often haunted Will’s dreams. There were gigantic pots of boiled Mud bugs and corn cobs drenched in butter. He would suck the crustacean's tiny heads and laugh with a giant table of strangers he was supposedly related to. That's how reunions went. 

Creamy grits floated in bacon fat, fresh french bread crisp and soft, and po boy stands at every corner. After dinner he would nibble sickly sweet praline candies, rotting his teeth while feeding his soul.

This was what made up the first 10 or so years of Will’s life. 

He would close eyes and find himself on the banks of the Pontchartrain, shoveling Beignets into his mouth, powdered sugar coating his face and shirt.

oOo

Will stretched, rolling over in his bed. He was barricaded in by soft bodies, radiating heat like hairy furnaces.

He had been dragged out of a dream, where he was sitting on a dock eating straight out of a serving dish of Etouffee. 

He smacked the alarm harder than he should, and it crashed to floor taking his glasses with it. Karma is a bitch.

After a longish search he grabbed them and shoved them onto his face. Ahh. There was the world. For better or worse.

The weather was blustery, red and orange leaves whipping past on an unforgiving wind.

In fact, he thought, as he turned on the shower, it was perfect weather for a steaming pot of Gumbo, spicy enough to clear the sinuses. He even had a box of pralines stashed somewhere.

oOo

Will’s appointment was as it always was, 7pm Friday evening. There would be talk, both light and deep, and a possible drink during. Well, the drink had pretty much become a staple over time. Fancy wine, ancient scotch, and occasionally a cold bottle of Hannibal’s home brewed beer. How the man had time to do all this shit confounded Will. How long did it even take to put on those fucking suits? 

Not that Will wasn’t grateful. He benefited from those flattering suits. He lived for the moments Hannibal bent over so he could grab an eyeful of a cotton covered butt-cheek. 

****Hannibal****

It was Friday. Hannibal’s favorite day of the week by far. He sat up in his bed primly, adjusting the covers around him. He put on glasses no one knew he needed, and picked up his tablet. Something had escaped from the zoo, blah blah. Slow news day.

He looked down and sighed. The blankets at his waist were tented. Damn that Will Graham, and his long lashed, sharp jawed, soft haired sexy as fuck-ness. 

He reached down beneath the sheet, and imagined those curls brushing his cheek. 

He ruined his Egyptian cotton sheets in about a minute. 

oOo

Hannibal checked his Rolex. 5 til 7. He got the wine glasses ready-a dark Malbec to warm the bones against the chill of the evening. 

There was a knock. Hannibal smiled and adjusted his Windsor knot. 

“Will! Please come in!” Hannibal ushered Will in, voice jovial and welcoming. 

Will sat in his usual chair, and dropped his bag on the floor.

Hannibal wordlessly handed Will a delicate wine glass and nodded in a kind of cheers.

“So Will. Tell me. How were things on this chilly day.” Hannibal sipped the wine, already feeling the spicy sensation spread through his limbs. 

“It was good I guess. I just had a few lectures and…” He shrugged, taking a deep (almost obscene) swig of wine. 

“This is amazing Hannibal!” Will swirled the wine around in the glass, watching the legs run languidly down the sides. 

“Thank you! It’s probably my favorite-It’s called-” 

Will cut him off.

“For the love of god don’t tell me. I’ll look it up and be horrified by the cost” He grinned, looking 10 years younger. 

Hannibal laughed genuinely and nodded his head in acquiescence. 

They sat in a comfortable silence for awhile, enjoying the wine and the atmosphere. 

Will suddenly blurted out-

“Can-I-make-you-dinner-tonight?”

Hannibal wondered for a moment if he should pretend he couldn't understand him, just to hear the words again.

 

“I would love nothing more! But I have one request. We use my kitchen; Simply because you’ll love it.”

Hannibal was overjoyed when Will agreed. 

Outside in the cool air Hannibal watched Will walk to his car, the lamp light making the curls on the top of his head glow.

oOo

****Will and Hannibal***

The typically commonplace event of grocery shopping had become quite lively. Hannibal tried to intervene more than once in Will’s vegetable and meat selection, but Will had playfully shushed him. Hannibal preferred his “meat” fresher. It became a bit of a joke. Hannibal would clear his throat and Will would glare back seductively. Hannibal couldn’t tell if it was purposeful or not.

Hannibal had to use all his willpower not to offer to pay for the groceries. He didn’t want to offend Will, especially as he wanted to get alllll up in that shit. 

oOo

Back at Hannibal’s they carted the Gumbo ingredients inside, not without effort. Will had seen Hannibal’s kitchen plenty of times. Dinner parties, and just the two of them more than once. He had even sat at the counter once or twice, lingering over a little elegant glass of port after the guests had left. He was daunted at the thought of putting fingerprints on the stainless steel counter tops or spilling sauce everywhere. 

He was suddenly regretting his decision. Hannibal (of course) saw Will’s look of trepidation, and patted his shoulder. 

“It’s a kitchen Will. Not a museum.”

Will mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “you could have fooled me.” 

“Here my friend. Some liquid courage?” 

Will accepted another glass of rich looking wine gratefully. 

And another. And another. And another. 

oOo

By the time the “cooking” actually began, it was about 11pm. Both men were giggling, struggling with small tasks. Like getting up. 

“Ok. Ok. Ok.” Will began, fishing in his bag for something. 

It was a small, yellowed square of paper, which had been laminated. Hannibal could immediately tell why, the crease from being folded and unfolded 100 times would have caused it to completely fall apart. 

“Is that a family heirloom?” Hannibal asked, still perceptive several bottles of red later. 

“Well, kind of. This older lady who lived next door-it was her recipe, and her mother’s, so on and so on. I spent time with her while my dad was at work. She taught me the classics. She was constantly trying to fatten me up. She would always slip pralines into my backpack for “emergencies.”

“That’s a wonderful memory.” Hannibal looked at Will softly, affectionately. Will caught the look and blushed. 

“Anyway. I need a red pepper. And an onion. Does that spell onion?” Will chuckled and squinted at the tiny cursive instructions. 

“Will. I have an idea.” Hannibal put his glass down a little too roughly, and it clinked dangerously. 

“Let’s put the ingredients in the fridge. It’ll keep until tomorrow. I don’t think either of us are in the kind of shape to use knives.” 

Will had to agree, and shoved the beloved paper back into his bag. 

“Well, Dr. Smartypants, what do you suggest?”

oOo

Hannibal and Will lounged on the floor, a half finished baguette and several exotic cheeses between them. There was a mostly empty bowl of grapes off the the side, one of which Will was absent-mindedly rolling between his finger tips.

“So William. What would you be doing if you were at home?” Here Hannibal snatched the grape from Will’s fingers and popped it into his mouth. 

“The usual.” Said Will, rebelliously grabbing another piece of fruit. 

“Dogs. Scotch. Jerking off.” 

It took a moment for Will to realize the magnitude of what he had admitted.

He looked at Hannibal, mortified. Hannibal looked back, expression blank. Will opened his mouth to say...something when Hannibal's laughter echoed off the high ceiling.

Will soon joined him, until they were cackling like crones, crying and holding their ribs. 

“I appreciate your honesty…” Hannibal finally gasped, throwing a grape at Will. “And, if I dare ask, who is the object of these...ministrations…” 

Will already had one foot in his mouth. The second might as well join in. 

“This weird guy I met at work. Wears these ridiculous suits and spends my mortgage on wine and pocket thingies.” He gestured clumsily at Hannibal’s pocket square.

“And you doctor? Fair is fair," Will asked suggestively.

Hannibal tried to look stern.

“A somewhat disheveled person. Has a tatty old bag and wears the ugliest shirts I’ve ever seen. Kind of...sweaty.” 

The men looked at each other, and Will chose this moment to lean across the cheese and kiss Hannibal on the nose. 

Hannibal grabbed Will by those curls...and pulled the younger man towards him. 

Their mouths tasted like wine and bread, and there was a cheese smear on Hannibal’s jacket. 

"I won't be jerking off tonight" whispered Will, nibbling Hannibal's ears. "Indeed" was all the other man could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE YOU HUNGRY AND HORNY??? XOXOXOXO


	8. Everyone is horny af and whoops (another coffee shop trope)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So guys, due to several mistakes by the author, I have posted this chapter in the whole. The first part was published. And then the author had a mental malfunction. So. It is here in its entirety with a different name. And editing. ILUSM. Here it is. The whole sha-bang (ha. Bang)
> 
> JESUS I made a huge glaring mistake. I had half written it like Will knew who his secret admirer was. Please forgive me. It’s been recitified.

Will hadn’t worked at Martha’s long. 

It was a sweet little place, tucked in a small corner of the Inner Harbor. It was a beautiful neighborhood, and obviously, sat on the harbor side of the city. It was always bustling, with tiny eclectic shops crowding the streets. Martha’s was always fairly busy, locals and tourists grabbing caffeine and treats between shopping sprees. 

Will wasn’t particularly...social. Martha Hudson was his aunt-and had raised him. And thank god. His scholarship didn’t really cover booze.

Will lived right above the shop in a neat little apartment. It had a bedroom, a lilliputian sized kitchen, and a quaint little living space. The walls were ancient exposed brick, and the wood floors were painted black, which was another sign of antiquity

He had one roommate. Daisy. A huge, hairy, panting roommate who didn’t pay rent and occasionally pissed on the floor.

Will had found her as a puppy, huddled by the trash cans behind the shop. She had grown. And grown. And grown. 125 lbs later, that tiny pup had hulked out into some sort of mythical beast. Her giant skull often rested on the counter while Will cooked dinner. 

oOo

Will had decided to take graduate forensics classes at The University of Maryland part time. The rest of his hours he studied, worked at Martha’s, and took Daisy to the dog park-where she terrified everyone and rolled in shit. 

 

oOo

Will always preferred opening at the coffee shop. He was a morning person, and liked the quiet of the streets as the sun rose over the harbor. It was 5am when the bell on Martha’s door jingled softly. Usually people didn’t start showing up until 5:30 or so. Will tried to quickly get things set up as the customer came up front. 

“Good morning” greeted a smooth voice.

Will turned around. 

The man looked like he had materialized out of the 19th century. His entire suit was an elaborate plaid, including the waistcoat. Seriously a waistcoat??

Will couldn’t deny the man was attractive. Odd, deep set maroon eyes, high cheekbones and full, uneven lips. The accent he couldn’t really place. Will had to admit, he wouldn’t mind seeing what was below those thick layers of fine fabric. 

“What can I get for you?” Will grumbled, not meeting the man’s eyes. Will had no clue how to interact with people. He was good with dogs, and that was pretty much it. There had actually been complaints to his aunt multiple times concerning his surly demeanor. She only chuckled and gave him a hard candy, just like she had done when he was 6. It had become a running joke. 

The customer, probably 45 or so (at least a good 15+ years older than Will) looked at the menu intently. Will had a feeling it was all for show. 

Finally the man said,

“A large black coffee please Will.” 

Dammit. His name tag. 

“Alright. $2.50.” Will almost whispered.

The man looked amused, his lips spreading into a grin. 

“Of course.” He handed Will a $5 bill. Will made change, but the man waved his hand towards the tip jar, with a charming raise of an eyebrow. 

Will went to the large carafe, the fresh brew releasing an alluring scent. He handed the paper cup to the man, and mumbled “here you go.” That was the closest Will could really get to friendly. 

“Why thank you!” Returned the man brightly. And to Will’s surprise, instead of leaving, the man sat in a comfy chair in the corner by the gas fireplace. He reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a sleek computer. 

Could Will duck under the counter for the next half hour? Pretend to burn himself and run out? Really burn himself and run out? 

He was considering his options when-

“I’m sorry to bother you-but is there a wifi password?” The man caught Will’s gaze this time, and something tingled up his spine. 

“Oh. Yeah, um. It's…” Wait what the fuck was it? What was wifi?? His brain came back online and he muttered-

“Um...beansandcheese. One word.” 

The man smiled fully this time. 

“clever.” 

oOo

Will worked 4 days a week typically, leaving time for classes and studying. Finals were coming up, however, and he took a week off to fall asleep with giant books on his face. Daisy loved him being home, and lay on his chest like a Falcor sized blanket, practically suffocating him. Will couldn’t say he minded. There were worse ways to go. 

He woke up the morning of his last exam to a deafening knock at the door. Martha.

“Ughhhh Aunty I’m in my underwear.” He groaned, stumbling into the living room.

She had never had boundaries, and bustled inside while he was searching for pants. 

“Christ Woman!” He exclaimed, trying to cover the front of his morning -tented boxer briefs. 

“Oh Willy. It’s only natural.” 

Will tried to be embarrassed, but it was far too early. 

“I brought you something!” She said with a giggle. 

“Is it scones?” Asked Will hopefully, finally finding a pair of sweats underneath Daisy, who was licking her ass enthusiastically.

“Noooope!” Aunt Martha squealed, pulling something from behind her back. 

It was a was a package. Well, a present really. It was wrapped in dark paper, and tied with a brilliant red ribbon. 

“The ribbon is silk Will!” Exclaimed his aunt, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child. 

Will held the package and looked at it suspiciously. What if it was an ear or something? 

“Oh god, open it or I will!” Growled the woman. 

“Jesus i’m doing it.” 

Will sat at the tiny round table by the window. He opened the package carefully, setting the ribbon aside gently for his aunt. She practically pounced on it.

When the paper was off he opened the lid of the small square box. Inside was a mug among black tissue paper. On the side it said, in elegant cursive-

“Number 1 grumpy barista.”

Will had no idea what to say before Martha grabbed it. She literally slipped off the chair, peals of laughter filling the room. 

“THAT IS THE BEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN!” 

Still on the floor, she sat up and clutched at her sides. Daisy decided to join these shenanigans, and jumped all over both of them. 

Will took the mug back. He didn’t know whether to be offended or amused. It did say “Number 1”…but who the hell would send him something like that?  
oOo

Will didn’t use the mug. He kept it on the side table next to his old, beloved squashy leather chair in the living room. He didn’t question his motives.

Will was back at Martha’s the next week, more or less relieved. He opened first thing Monday morning, feeling refreshed. He popped the donuts into the display case, and flipped on the tiffany lamps sitting here and there. He loved how safe he felt among the gentle glow of the lights. 

The door jingled, 5am sharp. 

‘Hello again!” 

Will stood up quickly, his glasses fogged over from emptying the dishwasher. 

“Oh Hell! I’m sorry!” Will stumbled over his words and tripped towards the counter, and jumped as his glasses were abruptly lifted off his face. 

“Here.” said the stranger. “My handkerchief is far softer than that poor excuse of an apron.” 

In a few seconds his glasses were placed perfectly back onto his face. The world came back into focus. The man folded up the handkerchief and slipped it back into the ticket pocket of another ridiculous suit. 

“How is it you have a handkerchief? Jesus it’s even embroidered with your initials!’ Will sounded unintentionally rude.

The man didn't seem offended in the least. 

“Yes, it happens to be.” Here he reached back into his pocket and handed the small square of fabric to Will. 

It was black (Will had assumed they were all white with scalloped edges). The letters “H.L” were embroidered in shiny white floss in the corner. 

“Wow. That is surprisingly… not gross.” Will mentally slapped a hand over his face. How did he even function?

The man laughed, a full and delighted sound. Will found himself huffing a small chuckle in response. 

“Here you go.” Said Will. “Sorry if it smells like coffee now. You’d be amazed how quickly fabric picks up the scent”.

“Oh no. Absolutely not. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t gift it back?” The strange man pursed lips, and was dramatically stern.

Will opened his mouth to argue when a long finger covered his lips. 

“I’ll take no cheek from you, my boy.” The man smirked. “And may I have a large coffee to go? I have several appointments this morning.” The man checked his watch. 

Will filled a cup and doubled the sleeve. 

“It’s uhh...on the house.” Will’s hands were twitching as he handed over the steaming cup.

Instead of arguing Mr. Fancypants nodded his thanks and elegantly exited the cafe.

oOo

The next morning Will was off. Work. Completely off. He even had time to jack off in the shower. He tried not to think of those high mysterious cheekbones and fitted suits. He failed. His body was accustomed to waking early, and the sun was still rising when he wandered lazily into the kitchen to start coffee. He was about to sneak down and steal a scone when the door flew open about a foot from his face. 

“What-” 

“It’s another one!!!” Martha interrupted. She handed Will the package and clapped her hands. 

Will ignored her and opened the identical looking box. 

Another mug sat inside. On the side it read-

“Number 1 less grumpy barista.” 

“You’re kidding me…” He looked up at Martha for an explanation. 

“It was left on the step this morning just like the last one. Ooooo I hope its a boy…” Martha waggled her eyebrows. 

Will went to set it next to the other and his aunt interrupted him-

“You have to use it. It’s gotta be good luck.” 

Will sighed and poured his nutmeg spiced coffee into the mug. He lifted it to his lips when his aunt gave a piercing screech.

“THERE’S A PHONE NUMBER ON THE BOTTOM! JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL!” 

Will, startled and excited, dumped the coffee and turned the cup over. The was indeed a phone number. 

oOo

Will ended up taking his entire day off looking at the bottom of the mug. He was pretty sure he had the numbers memorized at this point.

Will was shit with people, but apparently some poor soul found him charming. Was charming the word he was looking for? So, in a burst of confidence, he punched in the number. And sent a text:

W: Hi. This is Will Graham. From the coffee shop?

 

He hit send….he motherfucking hit SEND. He had already saved the number under “Stranger.” The reply came immediately, and Will was also fairly sure it was a man, which was a relief.

 

S: Well hello Will. 

 

Will decided to continue the conversation. If that's what it was. 

 

W: Hello. Thanks for the mugs…

 

S: It was my pleasure, my less grumpy friend.

 

Will chuckled. 

 

W: Should I take that as a compliment? 

 

S: You absolutely should. Although, I must say I do enjoy my men a bit...gruff. 

 

W: Gruff. With scruff? 

 

Will rubbed his shortly clipped beard. 

 

S: Indeed. There is nothing more pleasurable than the feel of course hair against your cheek. 

 

W: Wow...I have no idea how to respond to that. 

 

S: Then don’t. I have to run...but I’ll be back. 

oOo

Will practically ran to the bedroom. He threw himself down onto the mattress, and stripped down to his boxer briefs. There was something about the friction against the fabric that really did it for him. He began to tease himself, running a single finger along the soft line of pubic hair just above the elastic band. His hand fell lower, and his shaft fell hotly into his palm. The fabric on his balls was gloriously uncomfortable. He began to fuck into his fist immediately, losing all control like an adolescent. He moaned, thinking about strangers suggestive words…”Hair against your cheek”. 

He came, hitting his skull on the headboard behind him. He was covered in semen, from his belly button up to his nipples.

It had been a while. 

oOo

Will passed out after that, snoring into his pillows. He awoke several hours later to the sound of Daisy scratching at the door. 

“Hold on! I’m coming you beast” 

He opened the bedroom door and the dog came bounding in, leaping onto the bed and making a nest. Will stretched and strolled out to the living room. He then remembered the...interesting conversation he had had before the orgasm nap. His now fully charged phone was glowing, and the little text alert popped up. Will snatched up his phone and opened the screen.

 

S: Good evening my friend. 

 

W: Thanks. How was your day? 

 

Will knew it was lame before he even sent it. 

 

S: The usual. Work and such. I’m currently making dinner. And your day?

 

W: I was off work. I took a nap. 

 

Will blushed. “Napped”.

 

S: Come for dinner. 

 

W: Tonight? 

 

S: Of course. Do you eat scallops? Red peppers? 

 

W: I do. But...what if you’re a cannibalistic serial killer? 

 

S: Don’t worry. I’d never eat you. Well, not in that sense. 

 

W: What’s your address. 

oOo

 

Aunt Martha was elated. Yelling. Clapping. Going through his closet. 

“Look nice. But not too nice. Something that will get you laid.” The woman said with a determined look in his direction.

Will knew she wasn’t kidding and ignored the comment. 

“And take an Uber. You should drink.” 

Again. Not kidding. 

oOo

Will hopped out of the Uber in front of a giant house. It looked late 19th century, with large stone lions guarding the door. It was now or never. He patted the lions for luck, and rang the bell. He could hear the muffled sound as it echoed through the hall. 

The door swung open and the man standing there smiled. The exact smile that had been gifted Will at the coffee shop. The same fancy suit. The same cheekbones and odd eyes. Will froze, and blushed up to his hairline. The man smirked and reached out a hand. 

“Hannibal Lecter. Very pleased to finally meet you.”

Will shook his hand limply, and “Hannibal” ushered him into the grand hallway. 

oOo

Will was silent as Hannibal led him thought the house. The foyer had shiny black and white marble tiles, which made a complex geometric patterns. The tenebrous blue painted walls were lined with paintings, all sitting in heavy gold frames.

Will stepped towards one of them and made a small sound in the back of his throat. Was that a real Maxfield Parrish? 

“Are you familiar with Parrish?” Hannibal had come to stand next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed together.

“I am actually. One of my favorites. I like the one with the lanterns.” Answered Will, enchanted.

“Oh yes! “The Lantern Bearers!” Hannibal flashed a full, toothy smile.

He grabbed Will by the sleeve and led him into what must have been a study. Ceiling high bookshelves lined the walls, and more art was hung here and there. Hannibal turned Will roughly and there it was. “The Lantern Bearers”. 

The effulgent lanterns popped off the canvass, and Will was mesmerized. Who the Hell was Hannibal Lecter?

oOo

Hannibal Lecter was a psychiatrist, and no doubt an effective one. He created a sense of peace and restfulness around him. Will, despite his incredible anxiety leading up to this evening, felt warm and happy. 

Hannibal Lecter, as it turned out, was incredible chef. He knew the man was putting on a bit of a show for him, flambaying and elegantly placing garnishes on large plates. Will had no idea how to eat politely, so just went for it.

“Hannibal...this is…” Will had no words, and gestures awkwardly at the plate of scallops and roasted red peppers sitting in front of them.”

Hannibal chuckled, and bowed his head regally. The light caught his hair, a graying blondish brown, and almost invisible eyebrows.

“So. Will Graham. Tell me about yourself, outside of being a pereptually carmudgeonly barista.” 

“Well, I’m at UofM. Forensics, not sure where I’m going with it, just sort of floating along, absorbing what I can.” Will took a sip of wine, deeply uncomortable at attention centering around him alone. 

Hannibal seemed to sense his apprehension and left the subject, without any platitudes thank god. They finished dinner and Hannibal (who Will found to be ridiculously dramatic and ridiculously charming) served dessert. Strawberries resting in thick cream, with what turned out to be bitter dark chocolate in tiny, identical curls. Isn’t dark chocolate an aphrodisiac? Will couldn’t quite remember.

oOo

Yes. Yes it was an aphrodisiac. 

Will sat on the black, perfectly soft cushioned couch in a daze, wine and chocolate permeating his body and mind. Hannibal sat in an identical black chair to Will’s left, and they watched the fire burn out. Thank fucking god he took and uber. He should text his aunt. 

“Um Hannibal, could you point me towards the restroom?” Will stood up, wavering slightly. 

“Of course. Down the hall to the left.” Hannibal raised his glass of whiskey at him. 

In a moment Will on the lid of a toilet seat, equipped with fucking seat warmers, and shot out a text. 

W: Hey. I’m not dead. 

AM: Glad to hear. Did you drink? 

W: Duh. See? I just said duh. 

AM: Excellent. Use protection. 

W: Christ. I’m done with this conversation. 

AM: Good. 

oOo

When Will returned to the living room, another large bowl of strawberries and cream had magically appeared on small end table that sat in the v between the sofa and chair. Will had to smile at the overly blase look on Hannibal’s face. Transparent bastard. Will was drunk enough and horny enough to quit this little game. 

In what seemed like slow motion, he found his feet taking him to the older man. He stood in front of him, thighs touching his knees. Will grabbed a cream covered berry and was about to pop it sensually into his mouth, when it dropped from his unsteady hand onto the WHITE berber carpet. Fuuuuuuck. 

Hannibal’s eyes widened in horror and then he stood, almost knocking Will backward. He looked at will, his eyes filled with...holy shit. Hannibal grabbed him not so gently by the hips and leaned into his space. He whispered-

“What a naughty boy you are Mr.Graham”.

The kiss was slightly clumsy (Will) but incredibly hot and perfect (Hannibal.) Hannibal pulled away for a moment, only to coat his entire hand in the now pinkish cream. He opened Will’s shirt, and coated Will’s very erect nipples. He bent his tongue to hoover it off and Will shrieked. His nipples were certainly not the only thing erect. Then there were fingers in his mouth, and Hannibal said softly into his mouth, “you really are a terrible barista.”

**Author's Note:**

> Give me your favorite tropes. Now. I mean please.


End file.
